He wished to read directly off the pages of the book of nature. A word is what it does. A lighthouse of irregular habits advertised as an exercise in immediacy. His study of botany, monsters, and curiosities. Scientific tourists betray their creation as evidence. Spirits leaping from one embodied condition to another. Women as equipment to his thought.

Names according to the time of their coming. He who delves among books in various dead and living languages. He who works upon the skins of creatures. Foliage of such fragile character that a coyote might have some excuse for action. A case of parallel development that occurs in methods as well as in nature. And there assembled. A broad and graphic presentation of the conditions. A ghostly group of great-ground sloths.

The Nature we feel for. Always bird bodies. Charms of wildlife. Evacuated recognition of pre–giveness. Of difficulties attaching to judgments. When a body is so near horizon. A single image of simplicity. To heart. Wilderness.

Accuracy is more–or–less proposition. Low down and close up. Architects impossible in need of work. During the next five years he painted African landscapes he had never seen. Truths rearranged into orderly progressions of interest. To create a message for the future. To prepare her for her coming tasks.